Josie heads to the fiction section, deep in thought. Joel would think she was crazy if she did this. But hadn't he abrogated any right to judge what she did now? Her family and friends would probably side with Joel. Not that she sees much of any of them. And what's the worst that can happen? It's just a meeting, isn't it, nothing set in stone.
But she still hesitates, chewing on the side of her thumb in that way Joel always used to complain about. Oh, stop thinking about him. She spins on her heel in the aisle of books, and starts looking at the titles on the spines. Her laughter barks out in the silence when she sees the book right in front of her. Love on the French Riviera. So the holiday theme is going to chase her through the library is it? It’s a romance, which she had promised herself, so she picks it up and wanders to the sci-fi section.
Somehow, when she has had her books issued, she finds herself back in front of the poster. It does seem intriguing and life with Joel had become anything but. He was a man who even had his socks set out in order for every day of the week. Josie was lucky to even wear matching socks.
Before she leaves the library, she finds the travel section. The selection is like a smorgasbord laid out before her, countries she has long forgotten wanting to visit, countries she has never even heard of, countries she knows snippets about from Geography lessons back in school. Tea-growing in Ceylon. Sri Lanka, rather. Windmills and tulips in Holland. She shrinks a little inside her clothes, that she has never known these places in any more than a cursory reading in a school text book. She hasn’t smelled them, been touched by them, lived them.
She gathers up an armful of random books, and takes them over to a reading desk. For the rest of the afternoon, she is absorbed, delving into book after book for facts about China, about Romania, Slovakia, Denmark. But facts, she thinks, are only a small part, a very small part of the story. As she leaves the library, she decides she must buy a passport.
When she reaches the pub later, it is immediately obvious which group of people she needs to join. Suspended from a wooden beam in the ceiling, above three tables grouped together, is a large beach umbrella, a beach ball, a few pairs of flip-flops and an A3 sized mock-up of a European passport. Josie smiles to herself, and walks over to the four people already assembled.
“You must be the Holiday Club?” she said. All four look up at her with smiles, gesture her to sit down. One man leaps to his feet.
“What are you drinking? It’s always on us, first drink for new members.”
“Oh, well, gin and tonic please.” Josie asks. "Makes me feel in the holiday mood.”
“That’s exactly what this group is about. I’m Charlie, by the way.”
Josie was a few minute early, but by six o’clock, all the seats around the tables are full and Josie realises she knows a couple of people there. Charlie starts the meeting. The group are discussing a trip to France next month, for a fortnight. If ten people go, they can get a bigger gite, making the cost lower per person.
“We only need one more person. Josie, do you think you could join us?”
Josie hesitates. It’s short notice to take time off work, and she doesn’t have a passport yet, but she has never been to France, and isn’t it exactly the kind of adventure she signed up for, coming along to this group.
“Oh, sheesh, I don’t know, Charlie.”
668 words
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